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#and went WAIT WASN'T ONE OF THEM WAS OZZY-

bibluebutterfly · 5 months

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It is truthfully so impressive to watch how we've watched Stolas grow as a seemingly asshole character to a genuine person who truly does want the best for the person we love. (HEADS UP: This is LONG)

Now, and we're only going to lightly touch on this because the Pilot isn't cannon, but it still contributed to the public opinion on Stolas. In other words, he was borderline predatory in a way that made EVERYONE uncomfortable. (It makes sense though since he was innitially supposed to be the villain. Which thank goodness that was changed because we already see enough bisexual predators in media as it is. Yes, I'm headcannoning that Pilot Stolas was bi.)

Then we get official episode 1. Stolas is... not much better. Although to his credit, he's not as bad or as creepish. The unfair power dynamic is very there, and he definitely talks down to Blitz, but at least he waits until Blitz agrees before getting to the pilot level of sexual.

And then we kind of just keep this up until episode 7. Stolas is VERY sexual and VERY horny with Blitz, and you either like it or you don't. It was consensual, nobody forced anything, and even Blitz says that he doesn't fuss about banging Stolas, but that power imbalance is very much there.

Stolas is calling him by pet names like "my little imp" and is baby talking him, which really comes off like his fetish is sleeping with the lower class. Again, you either like Stolas at this point or you don't.

HOWEVER, despite all his baby talk and just generally inappropriate behavior, we are shown very early on that Stolas has a loving side, mainly in the form of his daughter. "You Will Be Okay" was the thing that got most people from hating him to actually liking him. It was the thing that separated him from just being a horny owl.

Then Ozzies. Hooo boy. This is where we finally get to see Stolas apart from Blitz's POV and as it turns out... he's kind of a pathetic dork more than anything else. We see him go very low. Like the man is alone in his big house eating cereal for breakfast in his bathrobe and watching telenovelas. It's hard to go lower than that. More importantly, it's a stark contrast from how we saw him just one episode ago.

Not just that, but when he's asked out on the date he is genuinely so excited and awkward that you just can't help but feel bad for the guy.

And then we have Hells healthiest couple have their dick moment which leads to Stolas covering his face, validating every and anything Blitz had feared, which lead to him calling out Stolas which leads to them both crying at home.

AND THEN WE GET THE THING THAT MAKES EVERYONE EITHER LOVE STOLAS OR THINK THAT HE'S RUINED.... THE CIRCUS.

Yeah, so it turns out the arranged marriage theory was true, and that Stella has been verbally abusive for who knows how long. But the real kicker is how much it explains Stolas's behavior from season 1. As it turns out, Blitz coming on so strong that night resulted in Stolas trying (badly) to copy that energy. And it turns out that when Blitz told him to stop that first night, he still ended up tying Stolas up and banging him. So... understandable. It turns out that Stolas never wanted to be malicious with his intentions, but genuinely thought that the arrangement was something that they both wanted.

But at the same time, he realizes that misunderstanding or no, a part of him did recognize that Blitz wasn't as happy as he was, and that he can't gaslight himself into thinking otherwise anymore.

Now the big thing about season 2 we all need to talk about, is how hard and fast it took Stolas off the regal and powerful pedestal that I think we all subconsciously put him on. Whatever mystery and darkness that surrounded him in season 1 went completely out the window in season 2. But personally I believe that this fits as season 1 was mostly told from Blitz's POV while season 2 takes place in Stolas's when he's there.

Stolas does not see himself as something regal and powerful. Stolas, as it turns out, is a romantic as well as a MASSIVE dork. Like he's disney princess levels of dorkiness. The man even gets his own slapstick moment for crying out loud.

But aside from that, he's highly intelligent and a genuinely good person who will put others before him if he can recognize the benefit.

Also, while we're on the topic, I don't think that Stolas is as powerful as we or Blitz were led to believe. Like yes, he's got immense power to those who have none.

But at the same time, put him next to Asmodeus, and this demon who seemed so strong before is actually tiny in comparison. Especially when noted that Ozzie was still holding back in this scene.

Now we have the "Look My Way" MV. By now, any dark mystery is gone, we know who Stolas is, but what we didn't expect to see was how blatantly Stolas realized his mistakes and took responsibility. This whole season we saw him be sad over his relationship with Blitz, but we never expected him to realize just how badly he messed up.

But he did. And it was glorious. And again, we realize how much he truly cares for Blitz, this isn't just him saying "I care about him" then doing nothing. This is him realizing he cares about Blitz, and wanting to do something to make it right. Even if that means Blitz will never want to see him again.

Anyway. If you made it this far, I'm impressed. As I've said before, I'm proud of the owl boy and how far he's come as a character. Tell me if you think I missed anything.

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vikkirosko · 6 months

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Hi can I get this with helluva boss characters, fizz, Ozzie, Stella, and stolas? Thank you! ❤️

Headcanons Traumatic mutism

🦉 Stolas x Reader 🎩

Stolas rarely interacted with sinners. He was an aristocrat and he rarely had the opportunity to communicate with them until he met you. You were a quiet and calm person and during the whole time of your acquaintance you didn't say a word. At first it seemed unusual to him, he even thought that you were mute, and only after a while he found out that you didn't talk for a reason

You went through a lot of traumatic events when you were still alive, and since then you have been very emotionally traumatized. Even after your death, you remained silent. Stolas was very worried about this, but it wasn't something he could change with magic. It was up to you whether you would speak again or not

You saw each other often and Stolas always treated you with warmth and care. You supported him by communicating through notes and it meant a lot to him. When he came to visit you again, he saw that you looked worried. Stolas was afraid that the reason for this was that something had happened to you, but to his question you only shook your head negatively and took his hand. After that, he heard a voice. A slightly hoarse voice that hesitantly told him about love. Your voice

Stolas did not immediately understand what exactly you said, but when this realization came to him, he hugged you tightly, smiling radiantly. He was sincerely glad that you spoke, although it was obvious that it was difficult for you. He was willing to wait as long as he wanted until you said something again

🦉 Stella x Reader 👑

Initially, you met Stella because you seemed curious to her. You were an ordinary sinner, but something about you seemed interesting to her. However, during the whole time of your acquaintance, you have never uttered a word. It annoyed her for a long time, because she did not understand why you were silent, not even guessing about the true reason for this

She found out from one of the servants that everyone you talked to claimed that you never said a word. She didn't know what was going on in your head and why you were silent, but at some point it stopped being a big problem for her. It seemed like something she sometimes used for herself

Stella often brought you to the house where she lived after the divorce process with her husband began. She felt calmer around you, especially after telling you for a long time how much she hated Stolas. On one of those days, you approached her, trying to stay calm. She frowned, waiting for another note, but instead she heard a hoarse voice belonging to you and telling her about love

She was surprised that you spoke at all. She started to think you were dumb, but you weren't. However, Stella was even more surprised by your words. It was the first time someone had said words of love to her with such sincerity. She understood that you wouldn't get anything if you told her about your feelings and you knew it too, so she was sure of the sincerity of your words, and this made her soul feel warmer

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader 💟

Fizzarolli and you met when he went to town for a rare time. You were surprisingly silent, despite the noise of the city, and even when people tried to talk to you, you used notes to communicate. Despite that, you were nice and friendly, even though some people were repelled by what you didn't say. However, he was not one of those people who would be afraid of this, so he was glad to meet you and start communicating

A few months later, he found out that you didn't talk because of the events of the past. It happened even before you died, even then you stopped talking, and it stayed with you even after death. Even in Hell, you couldn't bring yourself to talk. Fizzarolli knew perfectly well that there were things that left deep scars not only on the body, but also in the soul, so he tried to support you morally, showing that you were not alone, and next to him you could not worry about anything

You spent a lot of time together and during one of your joint movie screenings, he noticed that you were very worried about something. He didn't understand the reason, but he paused the movie to find out what happened. First you looked at the floor, then you took a deep breath, exhaled and looked at him. He was expecting a note, but instead you spoke. Your voice was hoarse and quiet, but you still spoke, you said words of love

It took him a few seconds to understand what you said, realize it and hug you tightly. He was delighted and sincerely glad that you spoke. Fizzarolli was glad that you started taking steps towards recovery. It was important to you and his support helped you a lot

🐓 Asmodeus x Reader 💕

Your communication with Asmodeus began at one of the parties he hosted. Your friend brought you there, but you were uncomfortable. You ran into Asmodeus and he was surprised when instead of the usual words you communicated using notes. You were able to talk a little and he invited you to meet again. That's how your relationship began

Few of his acquaintances understood why you were communicating. For all the time you didn't say a word and you were very different from Asmodeus, but none of them knew that you were an interesting conversationalist and that it was really nice for him to communicate with you. A few months later, you told him that the reason why you were silent were the events that led to your death. These events are so strongly imprinted in your memory that you still have not found the strength to speak again

He tried to create a comfortable atmosphere for you when you came to him. Quite often you sat together in his office. He was busy working when you came up to him and pulled his sleeve uncertainly. He looked at you and smiled gently. He was waiting for a note, but instead you spoke. It's the first time you've spoken since you were in Hell

You quietly said words of love to him. It was obviously unusual for you to speak after such a long time, but Asmodeus hugged you tightly, smiling. He was glad that you felt quite comfortable and safe next to him, since you decided to talk. He quietly told you that he was glad that you were gradually starting to talk, because it really was an important step for you

#Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Stolas #Stolas x Reader #Stella #Stella x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader

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evenmorefatallyobsessed · 11 months

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Prof. Gelé AU Concept

To be clear this isn't the only Au/ comic I'll put the model in but it is the one that comes to mind for me most often.

Bleiss is born into the previous generation to RWBY's main characters like Jaune was in my Prof. Arc AU, also like him she became Glynda's partner.

There wasn't really much to say about Bleiss, not really. She Nicholas Schnee's second born daughter. She had talent, beauty and a fierce intellect. But she was also a rebellious teen with a chip on her shoulder towards Atlas.

After that one snake in the grass tried to coil around her what was his name again Assques? Anyways she broke his nose, stole his date and the next day sick of this Atlas high Society shit she left to be a Huntress in Vale, to live her own life how she pleased, free from the SDC.

And Bleiss didn't just manage she fucking flourished! Made a cute friend and admittedly unrequited love named Summer, the best drinking buddy ever in a Branwen called Qrow and finally a bitch she could count to cover her back in Glynda...

Yeah admittedly the two didn't get along too well at first... Okay more like their first two years but whatever. Anyways Bleiss fucking loved her life, shit even turned out she had a knack for this teaching shit.

though only for Hunter Academies, combat school parents were always complaining bout their brats picking up some of her awesome habits.

She loved her students, some more the others specifically of the cute girl variety. Gawd did she love putting that brat Coco in her place. She'd have to do it again soon, the girl had been a bit too cocky recently with her fellow students after all.

But for now there were mors important things to deal with. Some fuckers had attacked Amber, she might not have fucked the girl or anything but she was a former student and nobody fucked with the brats she trained, graduated or not.

So she was suprised when the Malachites called her. The pair of girls she trained both on fighting and in bed having been excited over beating Ray's fucking brat who tried to wreck her favorite club. Thank god she gave them a few lessons on fighting from time to time.

Anyways apparently Junior got some kid some fake transcripts. A part of her wanted to grab the suspicious brat and throw him in a cell to interrogate. Too coincidental that someone attacks Amber, steals half her fucking soul and now someone else is trying to sneak into where they just so happen to have her.

So she makes it a point to be in front of the Bullhead the faker was coming in through. She was gonna decide what to do with him once she saw him. After all her drinking buddy Qrow got in with fake transcripts after all so she had to at least pretend to give him the benefit of the doubt...

She felt a bit bad for her neice Weiss, yeah she wasn't exactly her favorite kid of her sis but still. She always did like sweet, little innocent Whitley betterbafter all.

Then her daughter started showing of her dad's side and the guilt for not paying her too much mind died...

Seriously she left the brat there in a freaking crater sniffling and... And... And who the fuck was that?

Tall, blonde and strangely getting her engines roaring was a blonde boy with deep blue eyes, and a freaking knight aesthetics and a sword and... Wait? That was him!?

Okay so the brat apparently had a semblance that influenced people, had to be that? She wasn't into men. So why did her eyes keep tracking him, right right semblance.

Well didn't matter she had her man targeted and went in for the kill. Grabbing the blonde away after old Ozzy's dumb speech. Really it was less kidnapping and more telling the blonde to follow her.

A lie about boys sleeping separately from girls and he was all too willing to follow. Really he was sorta naive for a spy/ assassin. She had him right where she wanted, in her room ready to get straight to the Seductio-Interrogation! She meant Interrogation.

Thankfully the hunky chump still believed he was in the clear so she just had to act all treachery and respectable and junk while she slowly used her ace.

Alchohol, loose lips came hand in hand with drinks after all. And here he was all trusting, with that dopey sweet smile and those lovely blue eyes and that fuckable fac- DAMMIT!

She didn't think he'd be heavy drinker like her, brat could hold his liquor... Sexy. Finally though she managed to ignore the blazing inferno that was her libido long enough to get down to buisness.

And by that she meant she broke a bottle and he reached to clean it for her drunk ass... And cut himself.

He, he didn't have aura... And then everything came out now that she was interrogating the boy about his aura outta worry more then suspicion. After all he couldn't be a spy without aura. That'd be retarded and suicidal, once she told him how she knew he was a fake he buckled and caved in...

And she listened, listened to the blonde talk about his dream, and how he was denied the chance to even attempt it. How he ran away from home, sold just about everything he owned to get his hands on the fake papers so he could risk it all on the chance to attempt to live up to his families name.

So he could be a hero instead of just his families biggest dissapointment... Their black sheep. And she made up her mind then.

Glyn would've blamed the booze, but Bleiss knew perfectly well what she wanted to do.

So she did something she really did...

Something Glynda feared her doing, she gave the blonde a private lesson... And no not the sexy kind though she was awfully fucking tempted.

But no Bleiss Gelé unlocked the blonde's stud levels of aura and then went full out drill Sargent on the sexy blonde. Most would've broke, hell many combat school graduates did under her excessive, cruel and unusual tutoledge.

It was why she was strictly teaching in Dust classes so she couldn't train the poor soft Hunters-in-training. But Jaune didn't break, oh he whined, cried and yelled, but the blonde as it turned out was made of tougher stuff then his folks gave him credit for.

And then the night was over... Dawn broke and the poor blonde bastard hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. But that was fine, she had a plan, she'd go to Ozzy, get his permission to make the kid her sexy assistant like she was gonna do for sweet lil Whitley when he came down for Vytal and then she'd... And he was gone!

Next thing she knows she's freaking out over the kid being launched into the fucking Emerald Forest! Oh Gawd! She wore him the fuck out and not even in the fun way!

She'd never been more pissed at her partner then she was at that moment as Glynda restrained her. She was freaking the fuck out as she saw the poor kid launched through the air... Then he wasn't cuz that one famous brat chucked her spear his way.

Then she directed herself his way... Did something happen between them? How? Darling must've at best had a minute or two to interact with anyone on the way here?

After several more minutes of annoyingly futile resistance she finally calmed down and accepted things as is and decided to watch Jaune try his luck during Initiation and vouch for him if he failed.

-O-O-O-

Glynda felt very... Conflicted over her partner Bleiss. On one hand she'd known her through her entire time in Beacon. She understood Bleiss even if at times if was irritating to do so.

It was ultimately why she felt secured to a point around her. Glynda knew what to expect from her... Usually. Right now as she fretted over a random boy who she couldn't have known for more then a few hours was leaving her utterly stumped.

She observed him, and frankly Jaune Arc while having high aura levels was hardly what she could call competent. The boy was tripping all over himself and getting lost in thought randomly.

He was proving to be a detriment to his partner. Then they entered that cave and he... Did he fall asleep!?

Actually looking closer at him the blonde he looked utterly exhausted and his aura levels were rather low especially given how quickly they were restoring... If she didn't know better she'd have thought the Arc had been fighting for his life, the. Night... Prior.

No...

Turning she looked to her worried partner and spoke the most dire question without thinking positive even her impulsive, sadistic partner wouldn't be so reckless.

"Bleiss what did you do?" Bleiss avoided her gaze and begun to mumble, that was never a good sign.

"What did you say?"

"I... just... Trained him a bit last night." She wasn't the only on to look horrified, Port, Oobeleck and even Ozpin looked pale at the implications. After what Bleiss considered legitimate training was illegal across the kingdoms.

"How is he alive..." She agreed with Port before turning back to the screen concerned about the boy.

Her previous concerns were utterly dashed. Anyone who could survive Gelé's training more the deserved a spot in Beacon.

-0-0-0-

Exhausted, irritated and sore were Jaune's feelings... Aura, thank merciful Oum for aura! He didn't know how he survived all these years without it. But he was sure he would've died last night if not for the soulful energy.

Miss Gelé was terrifying, at first he'd been flustered when such a pretty older woman tricked him into her room, then confused and then worried when his transcripts came to life.

But all that fell wayside when out of nowhere she stood up grabbed him, dragged him outside and told him she'd be teaching him a few of the basics a Huntsman needed to know.

He'd been about to talk back, not willing to take a hand out even if from a teache- Then she knocked him flat on his ass, walked up to him and said some kinda cool sounding words before she unlocked his aura.

Oh she explained what she did to him. But did so as she was stabbing at him with a freaking sword, darting around the place like a bullet. She even summoned monsters! Just constant pain, agony on the physical front and lectures on Grimm, Aura, Dust and a ton of other stuff he didn't know about.

All while she continued to beat his ass...

Once his aura shattered she'd beat him with fist, kicks and really painful grabs until it restored and they were back to him trying not to be impaled! Wash and rinse and repeat to sunrise! She looked happy! Excited even!

But hey, at least he had super powers now... Aura was awesome. Though right now he'd trade it in a heart beat for a coffee of even better a pillow...

But those thoughts could wait! He had bigger worries. He didn't go through all that just to g

fail Initiation! The Grimm weren't even as scary as that after all!

At some point he must've gone in a cave because currently he was running from a freaking Giant Scorpion!... Still not as scary as Ms. Gelé but this thing clearly wanted to kill him.

Aura into his feet like he saw miss Gelé doing he managed to outpace it! Pyrrha said something bout not wasting his aura but frankly he still had a lot...

Like much of the rest of the day it all happened like a blur. Ruby and Weiss eating dirt from falling from the sky and giant bird getting added to the mix and something about chess pieces.

All he knew is that they needed to get outta there fast to pass and best of all not fight the two giant monsters. That was a plan he could get behind!

And he would've, should've and was sure as hell going to. Until the ginger girl beside him called out her partner's name. He turned and saw that Pyrrha and the brunette he could assume was Ren hadn't made it before the bridge collapsed.

Really it should've been a easy choice, they were strangers, he hadn't even known Pyrrha a hour. He owed them nothing and the finish line was right there! Yep, it was a easy choice, one he didn't even need to think about... Dammit.

Pumping aura in his legs he leaped out towards them. After all what kinda person wouldn't rush in to help others? Not him that's for sure.

Exhausted, tired and only mentally there by a fraction his mind worked overtime. Instincts were in the front seat. And so he listened to them.

He knew there was no way he could tear through the things armor... At least, not with what he knew how to do. But there was something?

pumping aura into his arm he tanked a sting with his shield, the attack denting his heirloom's mechanism shifting sheath but somehow managed to feat of strength to not have his poise broken from the blow.

The Grimm's carapace was thick, to thick for a sword like his... But maybe if he stole another one of miss Bleiss's moves?

She'd been so nimble and quick during the fight, pushing aura into her legs as she explain it while beating him.

It was where he got the idea of doing it, though he had the feeling he wasn't nearly as good at it as she was. But despite how petite she was her blows were heavy... Because she put aura on the blade, heck she even swung it once and sent the energy flying.

It was that which he inspired to copy in that moment.

Pushing all the energy he could into his sword, desperation and determination were powerful motivators.

and from them he managed to once more repeat the technique Bleiss had preformed before him like her aura reinforcement.

All his aura surging out in a arc of violent energy, that cleaved into and through one of the Deathstalker's claws.

His aura shattered, he was out and now the thing was glaring at him, oh he was scared but he had three people with him. All of which seemed more worried about his auraless state then even he was. It reassured him, didn't seem like they'd run for it.

Which meant he had a chance. After all, this Grimm wasn't nearly as fast a attacker as Ms. Gelé, and Jaune had learned last night just how much being light on his feet could help.

He smiled, a crooked, sure toothy grin it's way, finding himself terrified but also excited to kill his first monster.

-0-0-0-

While they were sure Team RWBY would be the focus of their students for the staff the group their eyes were on were JNPR. And for once it wasn't because of miss Nikos.

No the reason was the blonde dancing around and avoiding the Death Stalker's strikes.

Who knew it was targeting him but didn't turn tell to run despite having no aura but instead kept it's attention so the others could wear it down.

"A Fucking Mazing..." Glynda felt a chill run up her spine as she turned to look at her partner. And what she saw terrified her.

Bleiss was unashamedly looking hungrily at the Arc.

"One fuckinh night with aura and he manages this..." Her lip bled she was biting it so hard. Wait, did she say a night with aura!? Didn't that imply he didn't have it before.

Surely not, he used aura reinforcement on his legs several times and even swung a aura Arc. Those were advance techniques, techniques her partner knew... Technique that look utterly and completely unrefined and raw being performed by the Arc as if he'd never used...

She had to do a double take, but, but he was so nimble on his feet?

"Heheh, Hahaha! He can't beat that thing in strength but if he can dodge me he can sure as hell dodge it!" That... Was true.

Actually he didn't look like he was dodging it so much as... Dancing around it's blows.

What was this, well at the least she knew one thing as Bleiss licked her lips.

She would have to keep a eye on the boy for his own sake from her partner.

#prof. bleiss au #bleiss schnee #glynda goodwitch #jaune arc #au concept

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justarandomhelluvablog · 8 months

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Some thoughts from the perspective of a writer; why Blitz and Fizz made up so fast.

Let's ignore the obvious fact that this show has some serious time constraints for now...

For one, their relationship isn't completely repaired. This is an olive branch, a new leaf. This is Fizz saying, "let's give our friendship another chance," now that he knows the fire was an accident and not malicious, and that Blitz has been suffering, too- and that they were lied to. (Seriously, why is every analysis I see brushing over this fact?? At the same moment they realized it was a misunderstanding, they realized they were both lied to and someone was keeping them apart.)

Secondly, the quick forgiveness was to highlight that Fizz would have forgiven Blitz fifteen years ago. These two have been literally one honest conversation from a reconciliation for fifteen years. Fizz' biggest problem was that he thought Blitz did it on purpose, out of jealousy- and that Blitz didn't care, that he abandoned him, not even visiting him in the hospital. Fizz waited for Blitz to visit, and Blitz never did- and that's the crux of the problem, Fizz not getting answers and seemingly being abandoned and nearly killed by his best friend (and possible first love). Yeah, the years that have passed helps, because Fizz' life is better and he's moved on and Blitz has found something he's good at, but Fizz was practically begging to know why Blitz never told him before, and why he didn't visit even once. Even after the fire, Fizz wanted to be with Blitz- but Blitz never showed up, and he went through his recovery alone, or at least without his best friend.

All Fizz ever wanted was answers, and to know that his best friend didn't intend to murder him and leave him that night.

The thing that solidified Fizz' choice to forgive Blitz and try their friendship again was when Blitz saved him- because Blitz didn't run away this time. And the unsaid I'll never leave again....

Now, another big thing about this conversation is- this highlights how little Fizz and Blitz know about what's going on. They've been lied to and separated, on purpose. It feels like the show doesn't want to spend a lot of time on their fight because they need them on the same side so they can unmask the actual big bad of the story, the one pulling all the strings behind their lives. (I swear if we got Cash Buckzo turning around one day and finding Blitz and Fizz standing there side by side with their arms crossed and eyes narrowed demanding answers, I'll be DELIGHTED.)

They've both been lied to, and it's implied Fizz never even learned about Tilla's fate, with Blitz saying "you have no idea what I lost in that fire," which would imply that someone was controlling what information was getting back to Fizz. And the implication that Fizz has never been allowed to go out on his own since then....

Anyway, the point is, the quick reconciliation is just a symptom of how badly these two always wanted each other in their lives and that they have, again, been one conversation from a reconciliation this whole time.... but because Blitz was told Fizz didn't want to see him, they never got a chance to.

And again, I think they need Fizz and Blitz (and by extension, Ozzie and Stolas) on the same side for the latter half of season two. Because underneath the "misunderstanding" there was a malicious party- and it wasn't Blitz.

Now call me a conspiracy theorist, but I find it very curious that there were fireworks under the table, and that Blitz did shove a guy- but did Blitz ever actually see the cake? The cake wasn't in Fizz' flashback, but it was in Blitz', but Blitz didn't see the cake fall, didn't see the curtains ignite. Call me reaching, but something about that seems sus. Especially since it's been established again and again that Blitz is an unreliable narrator.

Also as an aside, while Fizz and Ozzie were cute as fuck I don't like the "you're never leaving the palace again" and how sad Fizz looked, and how it feels like he's stuck somewhere between playing a character and being himself. He still feels at least somewhat performative, despite it being very obvious he's madly in love with Ozzie. I feel like Fizz is probably much softer than he lets on- that super soft and fond expression when he was talking to Blitz about Ozzie?? Anyway- They might be cute but can we please not treat this thirty-something year old man/imp/whatever like a child? Instead of confining him to the palace, get him into self defense classes, sheesh...

#helluva boss #spoilers #fizzarolli

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sentimentalkeyboard · 4 months

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Ok so…I’m curious about this Becca Calistor girl👀…cuz hear me out, she kinda-

*COUGH COUGH*

anyways I wanna know more about her character! :D so go on hunny, info dump me about this mysterious gal✨😌

[NO CAUSE SHE'S PROBABALY A HOT SECOND AT BEING ONE OF MY FAV CHARACTERS IM WRITTEN OUT SO FAR Dawn's first teehee]

NOW... Let's bring miss Becca Calistor to the stage! ✨️

•Becca was born to a family that had no care for her. She never knew her father, and her mother was one of the leads in a ring of brothels and hotels around Disturbia. Her mama is sort of a 'Mother Gothel' type woman in how she raised Becca, leaving the caring and affection to the other coven ladies [deemed her 'sisters'] while she taught and raised Becca to be a little errand runner and servant to the higher ups around them.

•And Becca being a blue eyed blonde beauty, her mother always telling how lucky she was to get her looks so she's a perfect offering as a bride once she's older.

•Given she was born unintentionally, Becca was forced into a temporary bond till she is old enough to marry and bond with the big boss lady of the whole rings' firstborn son. But until then, she's under the dreaded protection, and trapped their for a good long while.

●That was until she met Daniel- or Danny for short! Danny was a vampire who'd taken a very quick intrigue to the young girl who seemed to quietly follow him around as he went through brothel quarters and it didn't take long for him to take a liking to her.

●Daniel soon became something of and older brother to Becca, and even promised to run away with her and take her somewhere safe where she could be a kid, and if she'd let him, when she felt old enough he'd turn her into a vampire, and be bonded to him in familial blood.

🖤💙🖤💙

•Becca is human, and the only human of the large coven she now lives with. She works as some sort of hunter for them so they don't have to do any dirty work. Wether it be to kill off completion or to get them a meal, she doesn't really care, as long as she gets paid.

•Becca isn't necessarily owned anymore, but she isn't free either. Her brother died before he could've given up his blood, and she wasn't ready to be turned anyhow, continuing to live her life as a human while working alongside her coven leader like a dog waiting for a command.

•She knew Dawn when they were younger! They have some... History... 👀

•She's heavily inspired by David for The Lost Boys, a lot of her personality leans toward his, even if she's a bit more aggressive and gruesome.

•She has a prosthetic robot leg! She lost hers in a bear trap while trying to run away from the brothel when she was younger.

•She has a hell hound. Well, it was Danny's, but the dog is now her caretaker and trusty friend. His name is Ozzy and he's a big ol German shepherd.

•She also has a horse named Vegas, and a bat named Fang. All her old pets She hasn't seen in quite a while after she left Danny's coven once he died.

#Literally love her you don't understand #SHES MY BABYYYY #MY EVIL SASSY LITTLE BABY #cherry answers #cherry rambles #ask #artists on tumblr #original characters #oc #they bite!#art #80s #they bite! a ballad of vampiric disease

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skatermusic · 3 months

Text

Rose

What was an overlord party without loud music-seriously, it was a wonder none of them had developed tinnitus over the millenia-food, catered by Bee, of course, booze, and Robo Fizzarollis recharging on chairs, some using their master's jackets as blankets?

Asmodeus shook his head and exhaled, sending out a puff of flame. He would never understand how Mammon had talked him into making the damn things. Though, he had to admit, he had done a fine job. The bots looked just as cute as their muse when he slept. He was so lost in his thoughts watching the bots recharge that he hadn't even noticed his best friend flying toward him.

"There's my favourite bitch! Been looking for you all night! Our song's next!" Bee exclaimed, hugging the Sin of Lust.

Asmodeus couldn't help but crack a smile, which then turned to giggles as she used two of her arms to drag him to the dance floor. It was physically impossible not to be happy around the Sin of Gluttony.

After a performance of Sweet Dreams, which Asmodeus was sure would go viral on Helltube by the time the party ended, the Sin went to the bar for a glass of champagne. As he enjoyed his drink, one of the Robo Fizz's stood out to him. She was a custom model wearing an elaborate red outfit tied with a maroon bow. What caught the Sin's attention, however, was the multitude of dents that littered her frame.

The Sin's heart broke for her. Cold clarity settled over Asmodeus as he inspected the charging doll. There was a high chance that those dents weren't from wear or tear, but abuse. He unplugged the poor bot, then carried her bridal style to his limo, without bothering with any goodbyes, or giving a fuck who this doll belonged to. They sure as shit weren't getting a refund or ever buying another bot again.

He texted Bee a brief explanation on the ride back to Lust. As soon as he arrived at his penthouse, he brought the doll to his workshop, where he charged her. Despite it being able to prove his suspicions about how she has been treated, Asmodeus didn't dare access the hidden camera in all Fizzarolli dolls to watch the footage. That was a breach of privacy akin to reading one's diary. He would wait for her to fully charge, then ask for consent.

An hour later, the doll powered on, and Asmodeus greeted her softly. "Welcome back, my dear. Your battery died."

The doll looked around the workshop, confused. What was she doing here? Daddy Valentino said her next check-up wasn't until after the extermination.

Asmodeus put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "Sweetheart, where did all these dents come from? What happened?"

The bot's eyes widened and filled with oil, which she quickly blinked away. Daddy Valentino always punished her for crying, and the thought of what someone above him could do frightened her.

"Awww, c'mere. Let it out." Asmodeus opened his arms.

The doll threw herself into the Sin's arms and began crying into his chest, staining his suit. "It's okay, girl. It's okay, Ozzie's here. You're safe now." Asmodeus comforted, holding the doll tightly enough to comfort her, but gently enough not to damage her any further. "I'm gonna fix all those dents, okay? You got a name, hon?" Unfortunately, he had to ask. Some of the demons who purchased these dolls couldn't even be fucked to give them names.

Through sobs, the bot told Asmodeus that her name was Kitty.

"I'm so sorry, Kitty. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. NO ONE does." Once she had calmed down slightly, Asmodeus gently repeated his question from earlier.

Kitty gave the Sin her wrist, silently giving him consent to watch her camera footage. The poor thing was crying too hard to communicate, and despite Asmodeus' effort, was inconsolable.

Asmodeus smiled, flattered that the doll trusted him so much, even though she hadn't even known him for a day. "Thank you, love. You don't have to watch this if you don't want to. Big Ozzie just needs to know why you're so upset, okay?" This gave Asmodeus the idea to make the security camera detachable. He kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier as the footage loaded. While he waited, he texted his husband Fizzarolli a wrench emoji. Moments after pressing send, the jester entered the workshop.

Asmodeus walked to the door. "Hey, babe." He kissed Fizzarolli. "The poor girl hasn't stopped crying since she fully charged. Can you help calm her down while I check her camera feed?"

"Anything for you, Bi-I mean Ozz." Fizzarolli corrected. He had temporarily forgotten that terms like Daddy could be triggering for dolls, and was thanking Satan that he had caught himself in time.

Fizzarolli climbed onto the table and hugged Kitty. Once the footage loaded, he covered her auditory sensors.

Asmodeus immediately recognized Kitty's owner-Excuse him-abuser, Overlord Valentino. Fizzarolli was enraged as well. He tightened his embrace.

The footage had told the Sin all he needed to know about how poor Kitty had been treated under Valentino's ownership, and it made his blood boil. Asmodeus watched as much as he could handle, then turned it off.

Thankfully, by this point, Kitty had finally stopped crying. Fizzarolli and Asmodeus wiped the oil off her face.

Fizzarolli gave Kitty one last squeeze, then left to find her something else to wear. Overlord Velvette was an amazing fashion designer-Asmodeus knew her work when he saw it-but he knew the doll wouldn't want to wear clothes associated with an abusive situation. Now that he thought about it as he fixed her dents, maybe Kitty's outfit wasn't the only thing that needed to change.

"Kitty? Do you like your name anymore?" He asked as he finished.

Kitty shook her head. This wouldn't do. Someone's name was the one sound they heard the most. Individuals born into this world weren't given a choice in the matter, but after the quite literal hell she had been through, Kitty deserved that much.

But, it appeared the doll had already decided. He noticed her transfixed on the preserved rose Fizzarolli had bought him as a wedding gift.

"Petal?" Asmodeus guessed.

The doll shook her head.

He tried again. "Rouge?"

Another head shake.

"Rose?" Fizzarolli guessed, returning with the clothes.

Rose clapped happily, making the Sin of Lust giggle.

Fizzarolli showed Rose the outfits, which he was planning on donating, anyway. A black dress with roses and a pink off shoulder romper with daisies on it, among others. There was a mix between masculine and feminine outfits, just in case.

"If you don't like any of these, we can take you shopping, okay? I won't be mad." Fizzarolli reassured.

"Uh, babe? I think she likes the dress."

"This one?" Fizzarolli asked, holding up the black dress. Rose nodded. "Yep, that checks. It does have roses on it. Here, all yours."

"Thank you!" Don't get Rose wrong. She loved Fizzarolli and Asmodeus so much, but Daddy Valentino told her she was just a doll. She didn't deserve any of this. Fizzarolli gently cupped her face in his hands.

"Hey, I know it won't be easy, but try to forget whatever that fuckface told you, okay?"

Rose nodded.

Asmodeus decided to quiz her. "Who deserves to be treated with respect?"

"Fizzie does." Rose responded.

"And.....?" Asmodeus prompted.

She pointed to......."Ozzie!"

"Who else, hon?"

She didn't see anyone else in the room, so with hesitation in her voice, she guessed, "R-Rosie?"

"Damn right, you do!" Asmodeus praised.

Rose wrapped Fizzarolli and Asmodeus into a group hug and thanked them profusely.

Asmodeus laughed. "You're more than welcome, sweetheart. What do you say we change out of those clothes?"

Asmodeus had a thought as he zipped Rosie into the dress. Demons who mistreated their Robo-Fizzarolli were barred from ever buying another again, but Asmodeus felt that would be a slap on the wrist for Valentino.

"Rosie? Big Ozzie needs to make a phone call. You gonna be okay, sugar?"

Rose nodded.

"Alright, hon. If you need anything while I'm gone, let me or Fizzie know."

"Don't worry, babe, I'll put a movie on."

While Fizzarolli escorted her to their personal cinema, Asmodeus left his workshop and dialed a number.

On the third ring, a response and a familiar voice: "Immediate Murder Professionals, kids die for free."

Asmodeus gave a shit eating grin. "Blitz, it's Ozz. I need a fucker dead."

The dress in question:

#my fanfiction #helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #helluva boss fizzarolli

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longbobmckenzie · 10 months

Text

S6 Volume VIII Thoughts

Remind me why I was looking forward to Casa Amor? I'd almost rather be stuck in a villa for 4 days with Felix... almost. At least then I'd get to spend time with the person I like best and not have to deal with sister drama and all that shit.

The note. I said this once before, but... "Thanks for being you"?? Like I almost do hope it's from Elliot and not Roberto because that's so generic, like something a teacher or boss would say to you. Not a LOVE INTEREST. It sounds more like someone saying "We had a nice fling, can't wait to see you on the outside, but only as friends. Byeee gonna crack on with these new girls"

And then Grace saying she knows who sent it only to then say it's just a theory. Like, you cliffhangered the episode on that only to say "Well this is what I think..." Girl you had your chance to tell me in the bedroom that you thought it was from Elliot. And guess what. I don't give a damn about Elliot, and you should know that if you'd LISTENED TO A SINGLE FUCKING WORD I'VE EVER SAID. JUST LIKE YOU NEVER LISTENED ABOUT OZZY.

Excuse me, wow. Got heated for a moment there

Raunchy races... what?? What are these instructions? "Sportiest girl"? "Hottest girl"? "Horniest boy/girl"?? THAT'S NOT HOW THESE ARE SUPPOSED TO WORK!!! No wonder the Villa won if we had to go through everyone figuring out who fit the description! This was a bad way to start the volume

Amelia going for Marshall, once again, pisses me off. And it pisses me off even more because a) he's the hottest one there and after stringing us along with Ozzy, I was ready to give it all up for Marshall instead as a fuck you (well, not really - I still want Roberto. but I was gonna replay for him). b) WE GOT A DATE WITH HIM WHEN WE FIRST WENT INTO CASA!! WE GOT TO SHARE A BED! AND KISS HIM! AND THEN GO ON ANOTHER DATE! And then you hit us with "I like Amelia better"?!?! Bro.

I mean, I didn't even like Marshall anymore after his personality fell flatter than a pancake, but the moment Amelia showed interest in him, I was like, BACK OFF I WANT HIM. I just wanted to keep her from getting him. Now I can't even do that! But if they were gonna be hard-coded, why tease us with him at all?

And please, stop with the "talk to everyone about x thing" when we could just... talk to those people. And we all know Amelia would've told us anyway. But then them coming to us to "announce" that they're coupling up? Like... no. Amelia can come to me and tell me you kissed and that she wants to pick him. Marshall can come to me and tell me he's sorry but he prefers Amelia. Don't come to me together and make a big thing out of it like that so that everybody else sees and sticks their noses in it

I didn't toast them. Hamish said "Popcorn. Lol." For a moment, I liked Hamish

Speaking of Hamish, whyyy did they have to make him so icky??? Like, he could have just been a funny young boy that wasn't interested in us romantically, but nooo. And then Grace kissing him only to get the ick, only to admit she lied about Ozzy and might bring Hamish back?? Have some fucking self-respect, woman!

I got to fuck Andy at least. He's a sweet boy. If it weren't for me being upset about Marshall, I'd be happy to romance him. But I don't like that it's just him by default (because Francis... no)

Okay so Amelia almost drank during NHIE for the 'dated a celeb' question (again with the celeb obsession), looking awkwardly at MC. She also said she lied in the villa, but said it was about meeting Elliot before. But there's definitely more to the Zeph stuff, she's gotta be lying about how far they went. She's a snake.

I think that's everything? Whew, I need to calm down. I've been refreshing the app store hoping Romance Club would update a day early like they usually do, I need it!!

#litg #litg s6 #litg spoilers #longbob has thoughts

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lxve-and-lxght · 2 years

Text

why me? pt. 3

eddie munson/ reader

warnings: sexual tension, slightest bit of gore, blood, vampire!eddie, vampire!reader

a/n: shits getting interesting y’all. also i was listening to big time rush when i was writing this, in case you wanted to know where i’m at in life

“jesus christ will you fucking duck?” eddie whisper shouted while the two of you crouched in a bush outside in the suburbs in the middle of the night. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his obvious attempt to be “stealthy.”

“will you relax? worse case scenario I’LL kill whoever sees us and we can skip town.” you smiled, eddie just rolled his eyes.

“first of all, we’re not killing aaany of the townies. and before you say anything the dickface from the national guard and the truckers were different.”

“you’ve got some fucked up morals, munson.”

“and now you’re stuck with them forever. good choice, elvira.” he scoffed, army crawling into the yard of someone from his past.

“okay well “first of all”,” you mocked “elvira isn’t a vampire, you fucking doofus. and second if you’re trying to be inconspicuous, get off the ground.” you stepped over his head and opened the sliding door of some complete and total strangers home. “It’s even unlocked.” he rolled his eyes again and pulled himself off the ground.

“come on.” he whispered, leading you through the home. “this way i think.” he pressed his hand against a door in the middle of the hallway and stepped inside. you followed behind him. ohhhh. it was the curly-haired kid. sleeping soundly in his twinbed. eddie slinked over to the side of the bed and shook the kid.

“dustin.” he whispered. “dustin!” he tried again, shaking him harder. dustin’s eyes popped open and he went to yell as eddie covered his mouth. “Shhhh!”

“christ eds. you kinda suck at this.” you whispered.

“you shush too,” he pointed. you stuck your hands up in surrender and tried to refrain from giggling. “if i let go, you can’t scream.” he told dustin. dustin just nodded anxiously.

“holy shi-” dustin spoke loudly, sitting up in his bed. but eddie just smiled and hugged the kid. “what the hell happened to you?”

“good to see you too man.” the metalhead muttered, patting him on the shoulder. look who’s a softy now you thought.

“how the hell are you alive?” eddie looked back at you and then looked back at the kid.

“he’s not.” you shrugged. “he’s dead.” the kid looked back at eddie and then you and then back at eddie.

“where’d you find the shield maiden?” dustin pointed, obviously addressing you.

“it’s y/n by the way.” you chuckled while taking a seat on eddie’s lap.

“she found me,” he replied, “... and she’s a vampire.” dustin’s eyes widened and he repeated the whole looking back and forth thing again like he was waiting for eddie to sike him or something. “and she kinda brought me back." he was just going for it, wasn't he? jesus christ.

"wait wait wait, so she turned you into a dracula ripoff?" dustin giggled nervously

"noo, i turned him into an ozzy ripoff." you smirked, climbing off his lap and taking him by the hand. "and i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the sun's gonna come up soon, and if you'd like to eat before then you better move your ass."

"she's right man, i gotta go but we broke into the wayne's trailer if you wanna come by." eddie stood to leave, "but you cannot tell anyone. NO ONE can know i'm back."

"can i at least tell the party?" dustin gestured to the walkie-talkie on his desk. "i gotta tell them."

"not while the townies are still playing hunt the freak."

you and eddie walked through the woods, trying to get back to the trailer after you let some drunken idiot kiss on you in a bar alley till eddie killed him and you dumped his body.

"so am i old enough to know why yet?" eddie asked looking over at you.

"what're you talking about, munson?" you laughed, you could see the trailer in your view of sight finally.

"you know, when you... let me feed off you," he replied. almost blushing at the words leaving his mouth.

"ohhhhh," you laughed again, kicking leaves on the trail. "um, i don't know, think you can handle it?"

"i've handled being freak this damn long. what's one more ugly truth." you bit down on your lip and contemplated it for a few seconds.

"just wait till we're inside," you said pushing his shoulder with yours. he let out a sigh like a bored child so you sprinted towards the door. he ran after you, of course. and when you ran inside the house he tackled you to the stained mattress, still on the living room floor, making you squeal.

"gonna tell me yet?" eddie smiled pinning your arms down while you tried to fight him off through the laughter. you pulled away just enough to bite at his wrist. wiping his blood off your bottom lip with your tongue. "okay well you can't do that to me and still not tell me."

you just let out a sigh and chuckled a bit.

"look munson, i wanna preface this by letting you know that when i let you do that, you were... still dying basically?"

"... okay..."

"and i think- it tastes different because i'm giving you whatever's left of my... human urges."

"is that why i could see your memories and shit?"

"my memories?" you asked wildly confused. he looked down at you, then your mouth.

"nevermind."

"look what i'm trying to say is, i think when you did that, i gave you part of myself."

"i get that i'm new to this, but that still doesn't explain why you, tasted... like that." the metalhead tried his best to explain, but jesus it was hard when you looked at him like that.

"what was it like?" eddie couldn't think, he couldn't explain. it felt like he was fifteen again and wayne was sitting him down to ask why he found his porno mags under the bed. "... eddie?" so he went in for the plunge instead. he pulled your jaw to the side and bit down on your neck. you let out a small whimper.

and there it was again. that feeling, the adrenaline. and then the memories started flooding in.

"eddie please." you muttered against his ear.

#eddie munson smut #eddiemunsonxvampirereader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #vampire eddie x reader #x reader

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serendertothesquad · 5 months

Text

OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE ARTICLE NOW.

There is...there is so much to discuss. How do I even start this post, honestly? Current stays winnin' with their long-ass articles but stays bitchin' in the worst way with their shitty-ass paywalls. Fuck paywalls, all my homies hate paywalls.

Anyway, look below the break.

casting calls ended on october 17th they just finished filming

Look, for 12 episodes, that's a hell of a crunch. Proud of 'em, really.

Also, I think we all know what it's gonna be marketed as in the States. If you don't then I'll give you the money to go to college so you can attend my Odd Squad class. It's only fair.

So I guess this explains why Netflix wasn't part of the deal. Either that or those articles I read were wildly incorrect on Netflix being a contributing helper.

...I mean okay, granted they could still be handed off to Netflix, just not in the US because...well, it's Fred Rogers Productions. They'll be damned if they plop their IPs into the hands of any streaming service that isn't named Prime Video.

This also means that maybe FRP will have a lesser hand in this than I thought, which isn't really all that surprising if one looks through their social media pages. Odd Squad was barely promoted on Twitter even before that account went near-radio-silent.

Okay, this is actually kinda interesting. Makes me feel like I should move to the UK just to see what, exactly, appeals to the British there. I mean outside of the comedy, of course.

Also, I know the pandemic affected a load of things about the franchise, but for it to birth an entire-ass new series is just downright insane. Not that insane, because that's how Lockdown was born, but yeah, pretty fucking insane!

...

Wait, Season 4 has 12 episodes? Like an anime? When Odd Squad already has anime elements?

Oh I'm gonna be an insufferable bitch when this comes out. Y'all have been warned.

Hey, hey, does anyone remember when Fred Rogers Productions got in trouble for not meeting grant requirements when it came to Odd Squad? Along with failing in accounting when it came to other IPs?

Pepperidge Farm remembers. I remember. No one else in the fandom remembers, but oh do I remember.

(Odd Squad cost $18 million for Season 1. Sit on that for a minute. Really think about how much that shit would be worth now, especially with inflation as bad as it is. It was a lot back then and it still is for some but it seems like mere pennies now, huh?)

I point this out because the fact that they had to seek out funding from outside sources that were not part of the hellshow of circus freaks that is the US government is absolutely hilarious to me.

You guys are married to TVO too, but you apparently don't like to talk about that. Shit's for people in all of those states that border Canada. Everyone else can go fuck themselves, not my quote.

That aside, though, I do like how PBS airing British media has finally implored them to do a "what if" scenario with their cartoons. It's been, what...decades? That's like swinging the bat long after everyone's left the stadium. Except for the audience, they're sticking around for some reason.

Look, Tim McKeon said the same thing about Season 3 and we all know how that turned out. I pray derivativeness is a virtue that will be buried deep into the ground by the time Odd Squad UK rolls around because we really can't afford to pick 12/24 episodes at random across 100+ of them to pry and copy plots from. And believe you me, I will know the difference between a simple harmless continuity nod and sheer derivativeness.

To put it simply: Sinking Ship and I have very different takes on "the same but also different".

Damn, RIP to Mark. I'm glad he's still working on the show, though for him to step down as showrunner for Odd Squad UK is...well, it's probably the best move looking at what we ended up with.

...I'm probably misinterpreting that. And/or it's journalism being journalism. C'est la vie.

I guess them sending over wardrobes is why Orli and Ozzie aren't decked to the nines in...uh...well, British versions of the Investigation agent uniform. Whatever those look like.

Again, you could say the same thing about Season 3 and we all know how that shit turned out.

I still have optimism, but there's a real damn pessimist side of me waiting to break free.

I'm choosing to believe "socioeconomic diversity" was how they picked about half to 3/4 of the writers for Season 3, because a majority of them either have very small resumes, have never worked on anything with a kid demo, or both.

The difference between them and the kids in this spinoff/new season, however, is that one group sucks and the other one likely doesn't.

(Yeah yeah, I'm making a lot of Season 3 jabs. But it's easy to make comparisons to that versus Season 1 and Season 2. Bite me.)

To maintain continuity with the original series' Canadian cast

Or "we need to have at least one Canadian thing to qualify for all those Canadian tax breaks and subsidies, and also uhhhhhh we're no lawbreakers".

There you go. I fixed it. Thank me later.

Also, they don't mention it, and it probably won't be mentioned until some article pops up in 2024 about it, but rest assured they're talking about Orli here. While I dig her backstory, I'm not so sure if I'm so keen on another audience surrogate after how badly they flubbed Osmerelda within 13 episodes. Granted, this is a different kind of audience surrogate -- Orli's not a "haha relatable funy thing for kids and the 'rents" surrogate, she's an "I'm a Canadian idiot who has never been to this country, please teach me" surrogate -- but still, I'm not so hopeful about them being able to write her well. Worst case scenario, we end up with a character who drinks maple syrup by the bottle, loves hockey, and drops an "eh?" every other sentence.

Oh I'm sensing a load of "tube" puns are gonna be made this season, lemme tell ya.

Okay okay, but real talk, this is actually kinda neat. Gonna be a little weird to see, but neat. The hell needs the lil' kiddie cars when you got trains to ride?!

Hey, hey, you guys remember when Odd Squad first premiered and PBS Kids put out a whole ton of new stuff for it? They had games at the ready and everything? They were so hyped for this shit they poured everything they had into it?

Pepperidge Farm remembers. I remember. No one else in the fandom remembers, but oh do I remember.

Needless to say, they don't really do that anymore for new shows. It's all the same cookie-cutter pre-release formula. When they did it for Odd Squad it was special. When they did it for Alma's Way and Elinor Wonders Why...not so much.

...Oh yeah, and the math stuff, the math stuff is cool, I like that. Here's hoping they can put new concepts into play instead of rehashing old ones.

"just 10-year-olds" the show is aimed at a 2-5 demographic

Now, see, this is where the funny irony comes in. Everyone laugh at the funny irony here. Now everyone cry because this seems more like a fitting comment for if GO! still existed and the show was on it.

Ahhh, now, see, this is where things get interesting.

Those of you keeping up with PBS Kids news might be aware of the network shifting to more short-form content as a way to nab viewers while also cutting costs significantly, hence why we're getting new podcasts and other short-form content in addition to full-length shows. PBS Kids has been in the short-form game since the late 2000s with the WordGirl shorts but they never truly dipped their toes into the short-form format until Elinor Wonders Why's That's So Interesting shorts and the Odd Squadcast came out. Those were the true floodgate-openers right there, paving the way for a host of old IPs being refreshed in addition to new IPs.

I remember when they dropped eight new shorts of two different series and thinking it was an April Fools joke because they were published on April 1st with absolutely no forewarning. I found out the news from someone else who had put the images up on the Wiki and I laughed my ass off at just how ridiculous it was. And then I found out they were real, and I sobbed.

...No wait, not the Meeting. Scratch that. I forgot it's changed dramatically since the days of yore. Moving on!

Whether this comment means we'll be getting Season 2 of the Odd Squadcast (which, y'know, is unlikely now), Season 3 of OddTube (ah, now that seems more likely), or more shorts outside of the two series we already have (Gadget Testers and Book of Games) is unknown at this point. But if anything, news is gonna break during upfronts like the TCA Press Tour and the PBS Annual Meeting.

It'll air in a year and they're already milking it for all it's worth. Byootiful. Clearly they have not learned from the last time they did a dramatic franchise shift and it paid off. AHEM MOBILE UNIT AHEM.

If they wanted to, they could grow some balls and go for broke. Do 28 more to be on par with Season 1.

No but seriously, I love how the fate of Odd Squad UK is so contingent on ratings. Let's not forget how Ready Jet Go and Let's Go Luna got unfairly sniped with no reason given (and then they brought back RJG with a movie like they still cared...lol get rekt) and let's not forget that they could easily do the same with Odd Squad at any time in spite of its ratings. They revived Super Why back from the dead, they revived Clifford back from the dead...they did it with Odd Squad and it's only been a wee bit over a year.

------------------------------

I'm not really opposed to Odd Squad being set in other regions -- it probably does better internationally than it does in the States, but we have no way to know that for sure -- but they're acting very sus with this portion specifically. I've got my eye on them.

All in all, this article has me pretty excited for the new spinoff/Season 4/how the fuck am I supposed to market this. Shame it's supposed to air in late 2024 (though maybe it'll air on CBBC in the spring because of that casting call...holy fuck I just thought of that as I was typing this post, real shit, lemme get my poker chips and bet on this RN) but I'm hyped for it either way and will happily lap up any and all press coverage on it until it airs. 2024's gonna be a big year.

If you guys reading this find any news on it, send it to me through an ask or a submission! We've got one more month before we launch into 2024 and if my theory about CBBC airing it earlier is true then we'll have to really be on the lookout for it as soon as January.

#odd squad pbs kids #odd squad #pbs kids #seren speaks (about odd squad)

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thedancingcockroach134 · 2 months

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Human Tito x Human Ozzie pt. 6

(How many times do I have to say this? Not for kids. This involves r@pe.)

Society is pretty hard these days for the people in this asylum. Ever since Ozzie came to this place, he's been touched, told, forcefully done by many people in sexual ways. Tito never knew about this. It wasn't just 2 people that he mostly avoided, it was a lot more. The orderlies and doctors never do anything about it since they think of them as "playing around!" Ozzie was walking in the hallways until he bumped into a group of guys, "Hey! What the fuck?!" Ozzie got scared and he couldn't process a word. "Wait..." one of them metioned, "Aren't you that faggot that's also gay?!" Ozzie couldn't do anything but just nod. Another dude joined in, "Well, if this bitch likes a dick so much inside him, we should do the same..." Ozzie got scared and ran off, "Get back over here, you slut!" Ozzie was panicking and tripped onto the floor. One of then grab him up aggressively from the front of his shirt, "Now, you do as all 5 of us say! We just need something for us to play with! You look like the prefect toy... Besides, you do have a nice body... You look pretty cute too, but your dumb ass boyfriend ain't here to help you, now, is he?" Ozzie finds a response, "H-How...am I...a t-toy?" The guy starts to get angry, "I mean a sex toy, you fucking bitch! If you're good and fine with your boyfriend putting his dick inside you, you should be fine with us doing the same damn thing!" A few minutes later, Dr. Fine had realized that Ozzie missed a session. She went to her office to make sure if he had a day off of session therapy, but he didn't. Dr. Fine went on her walkie talkie, "Hey, uhm, we have a code orange. A patient has skipped their sessions. Oswald Anderson, number 398. Can we get a search?" Somebody answered, "What a coincidence, I was just about to ask the same thing! But, instead it's 5 other guys! Sebastian landers, Eric Mason, Joseph Onles, Damian Lewis, and Raphael Lorenzo." Dr. Fine gasp, "We gotta do a search!" An orderlie responded, "We're searching right now." Dr. Fine walked in the hallway to do the same thing, but the janitor closet had been locked. It's never locked, but she heard somebody banging on the door. She decided to unlock it, seeing Ozzie on the floor, shaking, bruised, crying, nobody else was in there, but him. Ozzie found a response, "T-T-They...hurt me! T-They..put i-it in...me a-agressivly!" He was crying as Dr. Fine helped him up. She went on her walkie talkie "I found Ozzie! He prefers to be called that, by the way. We need orderlies and the nurse! Whatever you do, just let everyone else go to lunch early! If they ask questions, don't answer them! Just make sure every patient goes to lunch early!" At lunch, the Crazy 8 table noticed one person missing, Jerry notices first, "Hey, we know that sometimes Ozzie sits here and sometimes doesn't, but he isn't sitting at the table over there like he always does." Sara response, "He? I figured out that Ozzie's trans-" Cammy covers Sara's mouth, "What Sara meant to say was that she hasn't seen Ozzie anywhere either. She also meant to say is that she is confused on why everyone came to lunch at fucking 10:15." Tito looks at Jerry in a pissed off way. "I-Imma just go to the nurse, I have a headache and a stomachache...I feel like puking..." Jerry eyes go wide, "Oh, fuck!" Tito pukes on the floor. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Wanna come with me to take him to the nurse?!" Cammy asked, "Sure, of course! But we have to wait until he's done...puking." Sara responded. Tito kept puking on the floor while the table was covering their eyes or looking down. A few minutes later, they took him to the nurse with a trash bin from the hallway. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Fine, but our dear friend had made a mouth spill on the dear floor in our dear cafeter-" Cammy slaps Sara, "Shut the fuck up! Uhm, Tito actually puked on the floor, we told the janitor to clean it up and I think he...needs to throw up again....We did bring the trash bin from the hallway!" Dr. Fine nods, " We have a patient right now that's been raped, just sit here."

Sara worries, "W-Who? Is this why we were all sent to lunch early?"Dr. Fine looks at Ozzie. Sara gasped, "O-Ozzie! Tito, your girl- I mean, boyfriends here!" Once Tito had heard the word "raped" and saw Ozzie, he didn't care if he had puke on his clothing, he went up to Ozzie. "Ozzie, amor, what happened?! W-Who did this to you! Tell me! Who touched you?!" Ozzie looks down and starts crying, "T-They put...their thing in...Ozzie like we did... i-in the library! O-Ozzie no f-feel...too good!" Tito gets up looks at Dr. Fine, with anger and frustration. "Señorita, who did this to him?! He isn't a virgin, but who raped him?! T-This is my boyfriend, for crying the fuck out loud!" Cammy starts tearing up and Sara cried. Dr. Fine looks at Tito, "Elíaz, calm down-" Tito gets furious, "Don't call me by my fucking real name! Answer my damn question, who the fuck touched him, who the fuck had sex with him, who the fuck raped him?!" Dr. Fine look at him, "W-We don't know!" She didn't want him to know since she actually figured out. Nobody else knew, but her. She just wanted to make the asylum look good. She got suspicious on the 5 other guys who skipped a session too.Tito looked at Ozzie with tears, "Don't worry, I'm here! It's gonna be okay! Did you not like what they did? Did they make you feel uncomfortable? Tell me!" Ozzie looked at Tito as he was crying too, "I-I didn't want...no touchie! They touch...O-Ozzie! T-They put...it in me roughly!" Tito felt guilt inside him as Dr. Fine also started to have tears, "I-I'm sorry that I wasn't there! ¡Lo siento, amor!" Tito looks at Ozzie's neck, seeing that they left a hickey on him, multiple. Dr. Fine tried to respond, "Elíaz, you have to change your clothes. I-It has puke on it-" Tito looked at Dr. Fine, " Don't call me that! Do you even see that he has multiple hickeys on his neck? He even has bruises everywhere! Dr. Fine started to get serious, "Elíaz, don't start to get aggressive-" Tito starts getting a lot more anger inside him, "Aggressive?! Do you even know how serious their actions fucking did to him?! Even if I had sex with him, I wouldn't do all that shit! Giving him bruises, multiple hickeys, traumatizing him! Hell no! He's autistic!" Dr. Fine shakes, "W-We did check him up, just go sit over there until we can check you too-" Tito starts to try and tackle Dr. Fine while Sara and Cammy grab him, "Tito, no! Stop it! Calm the fuck down! I know that Ozzie isn't okay right now, but we'll make sure that he isn't hurt anymore!" Cammy tried to tell Tito, but he still kept trying to attack Dr. Fine, "Orderlies! Help!" The orderlies started coming and grabbed Tito, "Just sit him over there until me and the nurse could check him next! We have a raped victim right now!" Sara started to cry even more while Ozzie cried the most. Dr. Fine and Cammy tried to relax Ozzie, but it didn't work. Ozzie was there, traumatized...

(pt. 7 coming soon 😭🙏)

#im dumb #willy's wonderland #lgbtq #willy's wonderland comic #tito turtle #ozzie ostrich #gay #transgender #:(#Siren Sara #cammy chameleon

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cherrygorilla · 9 months

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The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window.

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat.

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly.

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?"

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention.

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?"

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail.

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption.

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that."

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more.

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother.

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…"

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?"

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone.

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool.

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk.

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air.

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?"

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether.

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway.

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring."

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Danielle and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink.

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that.

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend.

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily."

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was.

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas."

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp.

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks.

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really.

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't-

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it.

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further.

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body.

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did.

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!"

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short.

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs.

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area.

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser.

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August.

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk.

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning."

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him.

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow.

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant.

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench.

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet.

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals."

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it.

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one.

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him."

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle.

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from.

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack.

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?"

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?”

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand.

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows.

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there.

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time.

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her.

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer.

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk.

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page.

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile.

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!"

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble.

"Why don't you just play with us then?"

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun."

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?"

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know.

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance.

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!"

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played.

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?"

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?"

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?"

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit.

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts."

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows.

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders.

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe.

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour.

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation.

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation.

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned.

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now.

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother.

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again.

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult."

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk.

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is.

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound.

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet.

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?”

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat.

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore."

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest.

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat.

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind?

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her."

"Not by choice," Miles huffed.

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?”

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?”

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.”

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out.

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified.

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!"

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls.

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall."

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world.

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked.

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?"

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed.

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him.

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile.

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset.

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3."

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed.

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?”

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh.

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own.

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart."

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?"

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin.

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?"

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering.

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again.

Ok, now Carrie was really confused.

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was.

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message.

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet."

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his-

Wait, why was she turning back around?

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered.

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer.

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck.

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains.

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence.

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?"

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod.

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin.

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now.

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought.

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear.

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it.

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?"

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed.

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all.

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again.

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff."

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying.

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation.

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute."

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle.

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever.

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery.

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?"

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense.

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally.

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify.

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two."

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin.

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition.

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses.

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times.

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong.

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised.

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?"

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again.

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat.

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air.

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention."

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!"

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one.

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried.

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again.

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?"

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises.

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern.

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed.

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-"

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat.

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped.

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition.

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point.

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw.

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?"

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend."

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own.

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test.

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?"

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though.

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright.

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again.

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?”

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?”

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement.

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed.

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed.

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own.

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick.

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity.

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief.

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

#I know this part may seem a little boring because there's so much talking and so little 'doing'#but i promise that these conversations are all setting important foundations for stuff further down the line #you'll just have to trust me for now though #plus a lot of *interesting* dynamics are established in this part #*wink wink*#and get excited because in the next part we're heading back to All Skate #and the *real* action's finally going to start kicking off...#also I'm super sorry about being so inconsistent with my posts #finding time to write over the past few months with my crazy schedule and pretty poor mental health has been virtually impossible #but I really want to be better about that by the time I go back to uni in september #so hopefully I can find more time for myself and get some real progress made on this story and ASDO #anyway i've rambled too much #i'll let you go but I hope you enjoyed the chapter #and i hope it was a nice surprise after all the chaos you've been going through lately <3 #p.s. i know the order of things gets a bit weird at the end but I didn't know how else to write it without it sounding super choppy #basically eric bumps into miles before he goes over to greet her after class #his whole chat with miles is happening whilst carrie's having her little heart to heart with juliet #just thought i'd mention it because I wasn't sure how clear it was and my 2am brain is not a trustworthy resource

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cupcakesandteawrites · 9 months

Text

“Robin!! I really need you to do me a favour.” Steve said in a way of a greeting.

“Hello to you as well, what is it?” Robin replied.

“You know it's our anniversary weekend and I have that cabin booked as a surprise for me and Eddie?”

“Yes, the one you’ve been going on about for weeks and weeks? Yes I know it. What can I do for you?” Robin asked.

“We need you to look after Ozzy for us until monday, please? The sitter we had originally booked has broken her leg and can’t work with puppies for a couple months” Steve pleaded.

“Really? He’s so hyper” Robin cried out.

“We can't take him with us, and I have everything set up to propose. Please.” Steve pleaded again.

“Fine, I’ll look after him,” Robin sighed.

“Thank you so much, pick you up on friday morning” Steve replied.

Friday morning came around and Steve picked Robin up so she could stay over at their house and look after Ozzy. Ozzy was very playful and liked to bounce everywhere. He was also growing on a daily basis and didn't seem to know he wasn't hand sized anymore. On the drive back to their house Steve listed off Ozzy's routine and how they were going about toilet training him.

As soon as Robin was through the door Ozzy was bounding at her and jumping up. He ran away straight away and found a ball to bring to her, and her weekend had begun.

“He’ll be so much better when we can take him out for a walk in 19 days once he’s had his second vaccination” Eddie said walking into the entryway.

When Eddie and Steve left for their holiday Ozzy sat and waited for them for a few minutes before turning back to Robin, crawling onto her and licking all over her face before he ran off again and found another toy to play with.

The alarm on Robin's phone went off, looking at it she saw that it was only 2am. “Time to let the dog out, again,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh. As she walked through the bedroom in the near dark she stepped in something wet. Cursing she hoped to find a towel to clean her foot up with and to put down to clean the mess up.

“Let’s go buddy” Robin said, gesturing for the dog to follow her down the stairs and out of the backdoor.

Her alarm went off again at 7am. Looking around before she walked anywhere she noticed there were no accidents this time.

“Goodboy!” Robin said, stretching behind the ears of Ozzy.

Robin’s saturday was spent pretty much how her Friday had been. Playing with a very hyperactive puppy and continuing with the training routine and accidents remained at just the one overnight.

Ozzy’s nails were sharp, as were his teeth and the teething puppy sometimes mistook her hand for a chew toy.

A 3rd full day of playtime, training, and really early alarms made Robin very very tired. As much as she loved Steve, Eddie and Ozzy she was not doing this again until Ozzy was older.

She had all of her complaints on the tip of her tongue when she heard the key in the door. Until Steve walked through the door, ran at her and picked her up twirling her around.

“Robin!! Thank you!!” He said, far too loudly for how close he was to her.

“Look!” He said again, putting her down and running to be beside Eddie.

“Can we show her baby?” Steve asked, turning to look at Eddie.

“Sure, let's show her” Eddie replied, a love struck expression on his face.

Almost as though it had been rehearsed both Steve and Eddie both showed her their left hands, both supporting a simple band with a stone in the middle.

“So Eddie actually also planned to propose as well so we’re like double engaged” Steve declared sounding almost giddy and how Eddie was looking at him he was just as giddy.

In that moment Robin knew she’d pet sit the little monster as many times as needed if Steve was always this happy when he returned.

#fanfic #ficlet #eddie munson #steddie #au gust #au gust 2023 #steve harrington #au fic #robin buckley

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xocowilde · 1 year

Text

Some Wayne Munson hcs about Steddie relationship

ft. Genderfluid Mexican Eddie - Everyones lives ofc

We all know Wayne loves Eddie as his child since they appeared on the door of his trailer. Eddie was always welcomed and accepted without matter if they were gay, or he, or she, or anything they were. In the end, they were Eddie Munson, his nephew. The kid who talked in Spanish the first months just to make it hard for Wayne and got surprised when he replied in their language. Maybe that cheap dictionary and the help of his coworkers helped a little. He still had to learn one or two things with this new kid.

But still, he accepts them & tries his best to support them in many things. Wanna play guitar until 2 am? fine, just not that loud for the neighbors to come angry. There's a comic you can't find here? let me find it in Indy on the next trip. Wanna be called she/them? I will do it without a problem. Want to cook some Mexican dishes because suddenly you crave them at 4 am? Ammm... Yeah but remember I can't eat that much cheese, kid.

For Wayne is completely normal Eddie would come one day with a big smile and red cheeks and he will be happy to ask what's going on. Because Wayne knows Eddie deserves the best, he deserves a man that makes him happy & lets him be himself. At least he deserves his first romance even if it is in a little town. So he is happy when Eddie gets all shy & Wayne jokes around about him finding his Ozzy. Eddie laughs.

Because he did find someone as metal as Ozzy but not in the way Wayne thought about. And his face changed when he heard the name. STEVE HARRINGTON?

Doesn't help either that at the time Eddie disappeared and finished in the hospital all fucked up, Steve Harrington was around. Wayne does remember those days, being in the hospital, and how these kids and new friends would visit Eddie. It wasn't weird for Eddie to take younger weirdos, freaks, and outcasts under his wing, but for sure Steve Harrington didn’t fit that. He was in the hospital too, and at the moment he could leave… he still came back to visit and help Eddie. But Wayne kept alert.

Steve can see how dry Wayne talks with him or how he change his tone and expression when is around the hospital room. He is always "Steve Harrington" with a big emphasis on HARRINGTON. The rich s.o.b guy lives in the fancy zone and didn’t care about the other people in the town. For sure not people like the Munson. So he thinks is weird when Steve offers his help to take care of Eddie while he is at work, how he hears the nurses talking sweet words on how thoughtful he is to help them clean Eddie’s wounds and body. Doesn’t help either that part of the town still hates them, and Steve is openly there with them without matter.

Wayne frowns and decides not to accept Steve’s pity or whatever he is doing, but he can’t help to rethink when he arrives with groceries, because he knows Wayne has no time between the hospital, the legal issues, and his job. Also, the last time he went to the store, it was uncomfortable to have eyes and gossip around. He can’t help to just call him ‘Steve’ from time to time when he helps around the new trailer, the hospital drives, and how much he cares about Eddie.

And even more when he is always around to help a weak Eddie that woke up from a coma. Steve would come with groceries, help clean and cook around, almost making himself part of the family of two, just being out when he needed to take care of the other kids and his new job. Wayne frowns at him from time to time and still talks with Eddie about being careful because the Harringtons aren’t that great.

But that day that Eddie arrives all red and on the clouds, he has to reassure him, Steve is a good guy and maybe there's something between them. And yes there's something between them that gets formal weeks later. And Steve tries his best. Always polite, always sure not to cross lines with a joke or even just wait in the car for Eddie. But little by little he wins Wayne's respect and Eddie helps with it.

Eddie talks out loud about their dates with Steve when eating dinner with Wayne. Eddie tells him how Steve drives the kids and Robin around. How he helps them with projects and school, and how he cares about Max as a big brother. How he and Dustin are always messing around as if they were brothers too. Wayne can’t ignore how Eddie’s face glows when he talks about Steve, in the same way as they talk about music, their books, and about those D&D campaigns. And like the last one, he can’t understand but he knows that makes them happy. And, honestly, if Eddie is happy, what else fucking matters?

Wayne realizes this Eddie with more friends and a boyfriend is one of the best versions of themselves. One version he wants to keep watching, growing, and being better. Who knows if this relationship with Steve will keep going for years or will be for some months, at least Eddie is happy and full of energy, being their real self.

That’s why that winter weekend when Steve is waiting in the car, Wayne opens the door of the trailer to go and knock on the window.

“Oh, sorry, sir? Should I move?” Steve asks and Wayne laughs because his face is full of fear of fucking up something.

“Sir? I’m not that old, kiddo.” Wayne opens the door. “Listen, Mister Edward there is taking their sweet time so, wanna come in for a hot cup of coffee?”

He would love to laugh at Steve’s expression, how he almost hits himself because of the nervous feeling of being invited inside by Wayne.

“Of course, sir…”

“Sir again? I will let you out in the cold if you call me sir again.” he laughs, opening the door. “How do you take your coffee, Steve?”

If this guy makes Eddie happy, he for sure deserves the respect he has winning little by little, showing that he isn’t Steve Harrington. He is just Steve, and that makes the young man smile widely, hearing a different tone and a homely invitation to sit on the sofa.

And yeah, maybe later on he would be called son. But for now, that’s a win.

#wayne munson #best papa figure made by the fandom itself #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #gay eddie munson #eddie munson #genderfluid eddie munson #steddie #just a little bit of hcs #and such #mexican eddie munson #latinx eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things hc

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riddle-me-ri · 1 year

Note

What if one of the versions of Oswald who had a hard time because of their looks say tas maybe woke up one morning with the body of telltale Oz?

A/N: Oof–aww poor BTAS Ozzie, he’s in for the shock of his life. It’s funny cause I’d imagine versions like Arkhamverse or Reevesverse would absolutely despise the arrogant shithead that is Telltale Oz. However, for those like BTAS, he’d definitely be a threat and envious of Telltale Oz. Gotham and Telltale would just butt heads, TNBA and One Bad Day would be indifferent to Telltale.

Trigger Warnings: none I don't think, slight angst for sure cause BTAS Ozzie is going through a rough time

Word Count: 1.0 k

BTAS Penguin (with Telltale Penguin) - Freaky Friday

Have you ever tossed and turned in bed…your eyes aren’t open yet but something’s not right. Your eyes are moving, but still blocked by your eyelids, you can hear noises, and feel the blankets on your body…and something felt wrong.

Oswald just knew something was different. Something…was off. He almost didn’t want to wake up, but he couldn’t get rid of the nagging sensation that something was different and he had to figure it out.

Oswald slowly opened his eyes…things were blurry at first, but once he adjusted he sat up in bed and looked around.

This was not his studio apartment.

More like a rundown hole in the wall of an apartment. That was the first shock of the morning. Until he realized something else…when did he get so tall?

He looked down and gasped at the absence of his belly, he reached out to touch his now toned abs only to be met with another surprise. His hand…fingers…they weren’t webbed together by skin. He had all five fingers, he looked down at his new hands, flipping them and gripping them feeling the joints move individually.

This is not his body…this isn’t him, but if not him then who is it?

He hopped out of bed–the height difference even more alarming. He had to be an easy six feet tall or so instead of his four foot nine self. He scurried around until he found a small bathroom with barely room for a shower, toilet, and sink.

Oz felt his heart stop as he noticed…this face…this wasn’t his face.

His nose was normal, if not slightly crooked, whoever this man was must have gotten into a lot of scraps. It wasn’t long and pointy like his. His long black hair was replaced by soft short auburn hair with a slight curled bang slightly dangling on his forehead.

This face…while rugged, is handsome…

Wait…where was his monocle? Well, he can see without it but..where…

It was gone, just like everything else. His looks, his birds, his home…

Home…oh God, was he still even in Gotham?

He ran over to the nearest window and shucked open the blinds. After adjusting to the light…he could see Wayne Tower up ahead, and the bustling city surrounding it.

Okay, I’m still in Gotham…or some form of it anyway…

As much as he despised the Wayne's…it was comforting to see something even remotely familiar to him.

Now to deduce who this man’s body actually belongs to. Oswald went rummaging through bedside drawers, wardrobes, and even cupboards. He was able to find a measly wallet, barely held together by the worn out leather.

His newly developed fingers ran cold as he was given another shock to his system. He recognized the man’s photo on his driver’s license, it was the man’s body…but his name.

Cobblepot

Oswald Chesterfield

No, no, no, no, no! T-This can’t be happening! This isn’t me?!

Oswald walked backwards until his body hit the tiled bathroom walls. He slid down to the floor. Heart pumping, nerves raving, and chest heaving.

He kept forcing his eyes shut, hoping that every time he opened them back up everything would resort back to normal. Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky.

Oswald has to do something, there has to be another fellow rogue around. If the city was the same and his name was the same…surely. He got up and tried to get dressed, he sneered at the man whose body he's possessing lack of proper clothing.

A shirt, jeans, and black jacket will just have to do. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door. Oz looked down, seeing how all five digits wrapped around the doorknob.

Oz doesn't think he'd ever get used to having all five fingers.

Maybe some fresh air will set me straight. It was down right stuffy in that box of a home.

Oswald felt like an infant learning to walk again. He…he didn't have to make mind for his weight shifting him from side to side causing his dreadful waddle. He can walk normally.

No, no, no…this can't be happening…

He tried to push forward, walked his way out the door, down the staircase and out of the complex. Once his feet hit the pavement, he froze for a moment.

Oswald tried to start walking. He didn't have a real destination in mind…he may need to grab a map just in case. It may be Gotham but for all he knows it could be like him, extremely different yet the same.

I don't know who this-this poser is but he's not…me! He can't be! I'm a freak!

A freak…a sideshow freak…a laughing stock. People took pleasure in his misery so he sought to do the same.

Not this…strange lanky rugged street fighter type. As Oswald continued to walk along the sidewalk, he didn't fail to notice how some people gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

How some girls coyishly stole glances at him. They smirked and winked at him in interest.

One even had the courage to come up to him. "Hey there, handsome.." she smiled.

"Um, hello there–"

Oh no…his voice…was also different. He sounded younger, but with an English accent but with zero diction to what he had before.

Has everything changed but my name?!

"Oohh I adore the accent…spent some time overseas? What the hell brought you back to–"

"I-I'm sorry but I really must be going! Have a good day!"

Oswald picked up his pace and walked away from the moment. Taking a huge gulp of air at yet another change.

For as long as he remembered he wanted to be accepted. To belong somewhere and have people engage with him.

Now here he was with his name but a more conventionally attractive appearance. People actually looked at him and acknowledged him. Women were actively seeking his attention and tried to even have a go at him.

He despised this. He loathed this.

How could it be…that even with his appearance gone and replaced with one more…widely accepted…and he was clearly being more accepted by various members of society.

Oswald still felt extremely misplaced.

#ri writes #this one let me divulge into the different pengys #and I loved that for me #but also sorry for the angst #btas penguin #batman the animated series penguin #telltale penguin...kinda #btas penguin fanfiction #batman the animated series penguin fanfiction #btas oswald cobblepot #telltale oswald cobblepot

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disneyanddisneyships · 11 months

Note

Stolas talkin to furcalor about what happened at ozzies

Wonderful.

Also shout out to my friend who made an amazing oc that I have name dropped in here! @nightkingale

Stolas hunched over the balcony in his room, mulling over what had just happened the day prior.

He felt so bad about what happened and trying to text Blitz was getting harder to do considering he only got one word responses back. That was something that hurt a lot more than what actually happened at ozzie's.

In the midst of his sorrow, a knock sounded on his door.

He barely even said anything when his cousin walked in.

"You haven't answered any texts. I got worried. And so did Orobas. And that's concerning considering you're the friendliest siblings I've ever met. What happened?" Furcalor asked as she walked onto the balcony stolas was on and sat on a small seat that was perched there.

"A lot has happened..." stolas muttered.

"A lot always happens. Cmon you've told me everything.... you need to get it all out somehow. It's not healthy to keep shif tucked away," Furcalor stated before she waved her hand to bring her a glass of wine.

"Last night.... I thought blitz asked me on a date.... but he... he just seemed to want to get into the club to spy on his little imp friends..." stolas explained.

"Ugh. What can I say? He's an asshole. Did you tell him how it made you feel?" Furcalor asked as she used her magic to stir her drink lazily.

"That wasn't even the worse of it! Asmodeous saw us there....." Stolas mumbled as he glanced at his phone, waiting for it to light up with a text.

"Yeah well Ozzie is... Ozzie.... he's an asshole, like most of the demons here," furcalor stated before taking a sip of her drink.

"Yes but.... he called blitz out! Badly! And then he called me out and made this entire thing about how I only wanted blitz for sex and-"

"Well do you?" Furcalor interrupted.

"Do I what?" Stolas asked, taken aback.

"Do you only want Blitz for sex? Or do you want more?" Furcalor asked.

"I...... I know I want to feel closer to him..... but it seemed to really bother him when I didn't say anything to counter Ozzie's thoughts!" Stolas explained.

"Well yeah. If I went to Ozzie's with a girl and we were being insulted and she didn't do anything about it I'd be pissed... besides you didn't necessarily answer my question.... do you want more with blitz?" Furcalor asked.

"I.... it's a possibility..... but I've never been in love before! And he seems so angry at me, what if he never wants to see me again?" Stolas ranted.

"Stolas, there is no way he isn't catching feelings for you..... but.... you have to communicate that shit to him.... I've been watching you constantly check your phone for the past 15 minutes..... stop being the one to text first.... if he wants to talk to you he will.... you need to find him in person..... talk to him in person," Furcalor explained.

Stolas sighed before his phone rang.

"Its blitz," stolas muttered before answering and putting the phone on speaker. "Hello?"

"Hey stolas so your daughter stole the book and telephoned off to who the FUCK knows where and we have no way of getting either of them back okay good talk byyyyye!"

Stolas stood there eyes wide as the line hung up before making a portal to blitz's office.

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